(mh=WPHKzToyMewv7zU6)6.jpg)
Veins bulging, abs clenched, he battles his body's primal urge, each stroke a test of will. His tool is a weapon, his enemy, his own desire. He slows, speeds up, changes rhythm, but the pressure builds, an inevitable explosion looming. His grip tightens, his jaw clenches, a low growl rumbling in his chest. He's close, so close, yet he persists, a masochistic dance with his own pleasure, a marathon of denial.